Shanks's Hair Trouble
by rose7anne101
Summary: An extremely drunk Shanks face his mightiest enemy yet, his Hair. Shanks isn't sure who would win, but he would prevail…kinda…maybe. Starring an 'Evil' Benny-Roo, scissor and butt jokes. You have been warned. Inspiration is from the story D Sway the Waves of Time.


The idea for this story is from a scene in my story **D Sway the Waves of Time** (TimeTravel) chapter 4.

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The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful **Black' Victor Cachat** , he had written some amazing stories, go check it yourself.

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Shanks eyed the scissor and then his blurry reflection in the mirror and then the scissor again.

He rubbed his still aching head from all the drinking last night (how many nights was it?) and wondered for the tenth time if he should just leave and look for a drink. Everything would look better with a lot of sake inside of him, but his body refused to listen, his eyes still glued to the scissor.

It did take him a lot of time to find one (if one can call his drunk fumbling around searching). He was actually surprised to find one, _and_ one that looked in good shape too. Benny had forbidden their use aboard the ship, and all scissors were thrown out of the ship.

Shanks was sure there was somewhere out there a sea with scissor's shape fishes all thanks to them.

Really! Shanks didn't understand Benny's obsession with scissors, it isn't like he couldn't use something else to cut his hair if he wanted to, and Shanks _damn wanted._

There was … Shanks's eyes still glued to the scissor as he tried to put his brain in gear… there was…

Something he was sure. Oh, right, his sword.

A flash of something far out of his reach sparkled in his mind, insisting that it wasn't a good idea. Sword, hair, sake and blood… Shanks shook his head to dispel the blurry ominous images.

But no need for a sword when he had a good scissor right in front of him. Just waiting for his use.

Yet…

Yet, there was still an insisting voice inside of him (that was suspiciously like Benny) shouting at him that it was a bad idea. A very, _very_ bad idea.

But for the life of him, he couldn't remember why.

It was something about app… no, yeah it was something about red. Red just like his stupid hair.

Benny roo's voice resounded clearly in his head, the disapproval strong in every word, "What would we be called if our captain was without his signature, known, unique bloody RED hair… we are the Red Hair Pirates and our captain is the Red Hair Shanks."

Aaaaand that what was the problem! Wasn't? His damn hair was unique.

What _had_ the ladies (this time! How many times had it been, seriously!) that caught him unaware earlier in this morning- and cornered him for who knew how long- say again?

Shanks had just woken up (unsure where he was and what time of day it was) and was only trying to find something to eat and some cure for his massive headache or maybe another drink.

He really was not choosy.

When they had come _,_ Shanks should have run when he heard.

"Look at his sleepy hair, it is so cute~"

"Awwwww"

"So fluffy~"

But he didn't, he was caught in…. hell… with no escape route. He had to listen to them bubble away loudly, quickly and shrilly (his poor head). They had said something several times? Repeatedly. They had actually Insisted on telling him so he would remember it in _Awwww_ and _Ohhhh_ in their voices, what was it again?

Oh yes, how could he forget! His hair was just absolutely _gorgeous_ , silky like a delicate white butterfly sitting on the soft sand of beach reflecting the red sunset, he thought with disgust.

Was that before or after they demanded to know, the shampoo, conditioner, herbal and flowers... (there was something about oil, mask, mud, gold, he really doesn't know or care) that he used.

He was idiotic enough to have answered them with water (DUH') which opened another can of worms on his poor unsuspected soul. _Scented water, from which sea, is it Sea water (how salty was it?) or fresh water…._

But.. No, no _, that_ , all of that, was before.

 **After** , Shanks shuddered. _After_ was when the real nightmare began, there was the suggestion for…oh, no, several suggestions and their dirty, oily paws were all over his hair and person (Yewww).

Shanks shuddered, even more _, haircut_ s and braids, ponytail, curls, and there something about beads, loops, and _twirls_. There were words he never heard of before (and never wanted to again) like Bowl cut (were they speaking about food here?), Bun (bread?), or Dreadlocks (What door and locks have to do with it? Well he wanted one to run away with), Frosted tips (back to food again)….

Was there a food that _hair_ was its main ingredient and he didn't know about it.

No, impossible, Lucky Roo would surely know all about it. (Oh… oh ... no! That would explain so many things .., the fact that Lucky Roo has no hair that you can see, always that small hat glued to his head, and his hair never seemed to grow..)

Shank shuddered again. There were some things that would better off staying as a mystery.

(He should just leave and find a sake bottle or two. No, a huge sake barrel that he can drown himself in (if one was to die it should be in utter and complete bless) and let it be _a forgotten mystery_ at that, so he would never remember all the new exciting words he unwillingly learned.)

He had made his decision.

Shank grabbed the scissor.

No scissor would not be enough.

How would he look with a buzz cut? The image in his mind was not pretty or attractive.

No, it would still show that his hair is red, he needed something more… something permeant.

He knew what to do! He should ask the old man Whitebeard, he has no hair on his head. He would know what to do. They were both Yonko, he should help _kohai_ in trouble. That was the right thing to do. (Whitebeard wouldn't ask him to call him Pops? Would he? But if he helped him with hair he could just maybe do an exception this one time.)

Still holding the scissor in his hand, he turned intending on calling the old man and demand that he part of some of his wisdom about being bald, without hair, hairless, shaved head, _baldy._

He should have his number somewhere, right? Shanks considered this, his hand still holding the scissor rose to in the direction of his head to rub some of the pain and confusion away, but unconsciously stopped inches before reaching it (stabbing it).

He was sure there was a yonko's phonebook (special edition or something) with everyone phone numbers in it, wasn't?

Well, it would have only one single paper in it, and only half of it use it, with four numbers… hmmm, Shank tried to remember where would he put such (an imaginary) thing.

It doesn't matter. He would just go visit the old man, a conversation face to face was better. He could explain things more clearly like that. And the old man could show him his techniques and the materials he used to make his head _sooooooo_ hairless?!

Yup!

With decision firmly in his mind, Shanks strode to the door, intending in finding someone to order (where was he? Whose room? He was on the Red Force wasn't he?).

He halted few inches from reaching the door.

There was something else he was forgetting. Something that Benny would surely (and surly) say to him when Shanks told him about his full-proof plan.

Right! The name of their crew.

Well, they would have to find a new name!

Really! It was very simple!

Shanks took another step, then stopped. Something was still nagging him.

The name…

Hmm... he should choose the new name himself, and then no one can say "but what our new name would be then … everyone know that we are…"

Benny said that Shanks didn't think things through (haaa, he would show him!)

Name, name… red apple, no, panc..me..koa, lio….Corc..Mea..

Shanks banged his head on the door in front of him. All the names he could think off were either food or animals, that wouldn't do.

Shanks huffed and tried to concentrate, what other crew's names he knew? He would get ideas and inspiration from them. He was a genius.

The old man crew was 'Whitebeard'.

Nobody could say that the old man wasn't _ballsy_. He made everyone call him White-beard even though he had a boat on his face, no, half moon, no, no, what the heck was it. Monkeys rubbed their butt with it, no, eat it. Yeah, eat it. Ban.. _bananannanan_ , even though he had a banananan on his face everyone called it a white beard. That was how it should be done.

Shanks could grow bananaanan on his face, how hard could it be? He can glue one. Right? if nothing else worked.

Shanks the red bananaanan, no, without the red.

Shanks the bananannana.

It didn't sound right for some reason.

Maybe he should look for more examples.

Kiado, his crew name was... the beasts, cause they were all beasts. That was cool.

Shanks the humans, didn't have the same ring to it. Shanks the partier, drunken, drunken head, …

Okay, next.

Lilian was known as Big Mom, because she was Big, like really Big, huge, enor….moussse.

Should Shanks go with dad, papa, Big Papa, great father, grand father, no, just no. He sounded like a granny.

Big papa should be Whitebeard's name and he could take the name 'white-beard' instead. He would grow a banana on his face, how hard could it be. He would speak with old man alright.

The banana was his… he would have the old man shave it, nooooo.

It was a banananan it should be eaten. He would bring with him the crew's monkey (yup, they had an actual monkey) to eat it when he visited the old man, and the monkey can eat it from the old man face. Dahahahahaha!

Shanks made his decision (hopefully for the last time), his hand gripped the handle of the door, just in time for it to flung open.

Shanks could see stars with birds going in circles around the ceiling, it wasn't that strange of an image. He had seen it several times before.

What was strange was Benny's face in the center. Or something like Benny's face, really strange.

"Benny..." croaked Shanks and paused, his eyes squinting.

"Did you do something to your eyebrows?" Shanks blurted out, his hands trying to reach them.

"Hmmm," Benn hummed, his eyebrows flying way.

"They look like crow nest and your cheeks are sparkly gold."

Hands grabbed and helped him straighten up.

"….and their nests on your head, with baby bi…."

And sat him in a chair. The whole place was spinning around in different directions.

"Shanks, why do you have a scissor in your hand?" a voice demanded, it was familiar, the irritated tone was familiar at least.

Shanks forced his gaze to leave the bizarre yet captivating image of baby brides nibbling on the strands of hair (worms?) and stared on his hand with a frown. There was on scissor, but more importantly, there was no hand.

"The other one." The voice suggested softly.

Shanks obeyed and turned his head.

Yeah, there was a scissor in his hand. There was a hand too, fancy that.

The snip-snip of scissor blades was very enchanting and very easy to focus on.

"Dahahahahaha! Benny, look scissor."

When had Benny come here?

"Yes, I can see." Benn Beckham, had the patience of a saint (he had to, when living on the same ship as this crew), but not when a scissor was in Shanks's hand.

"Why do you have it?" he asked, compelling every drop of tranquility into his voice.

"Silly Benny, to cut."

"What?"

Shanks stared, his head not fathoming the too simple question.

"To _cut_ what?" Benny repeated slowly.

"Oh!" Shanks confusedly stared at the scissor. The snip-snip sound of the scissor steadily filling the silence.

Shanks brightened up remembering.

"My hair!"

Benny was not amused, _he knew it_ , he glared.

Probably a new moronic recruit had brought it to the ship. He would need to go over the regulation with the crew again. Scissors are forbidden for a reason and good one at that.

"No, not my hair, definitely not my hair." Shanks soberly answered. Benny's glare did that to you.

Shanks felt he was getting back on solid ground, AKA it was only moving from right to left, and no, they were not sailing (at least he doesn't think so).

Benn sighed.

"Shanks, we've already spoken about this." Several, long times. Drunken times. Sober times. So many a lot of times.

"I know, I know," murmured Shanks, getting more of his bearing when faced with _this_ Benn. He did remember vaguely something about hair, scissors, and a very bad idea.

"Did you know Benny… that _my hair_ is silky like a delicate white butterfly sitting on the soft sand of beach reflecting the red sunset." Shanks told him grumpily.

Benny stared dumbfounded, then opened his mouth to let out a loud snort, before bursting in laughter while Shanks moped in his chair.

"I see," Benny finally said with muffled cough.

He did see. Shanks heard a lot of _compliments_ about his hair. Benn had the pleasure to hear few himself. But this was something else, he wondered what the crew reaction would be when he told them about this.

He can already see Yasopp buying tons of white butterflies and releasing them every sunset shouting about how they can't compare to the beauty of their captain's hair or Rockstar going on a shopping spree and buying red butterflies ornaments, maybe even put on his hair and the songs.

Oh, the songs.

The songs would be .. ballade more like it, Benn could already hear them resounding in his mind. Maybe a violin with a sad tone to accompany it, or Lucky Roo shaking a maraca in one hand while in the other holding his meat…. Oh yes.

"A legend of man claimed

Red Hair was his nickname

His Hair Red as flame

Ladies spoke of its fame

They all swooned and exclaimed

Its silky strand couldn't be tamed

Its color made the butterflies flail

Even the sunset swore by his name…"

"What?"

Benn was startled from his 'daydreaming' AKA the near, _very near and certain_ , future.

"You see what?" Shanks insisted, looking at Benn suspiciously.

"Shanks."

Shanks knew this tone of voice. It was the one used before delivering very bad and unwanted news.

"Shanks, you have to agree that your cloa— cape look like wings, so it should be a black butterfly, that the only inaccuracy I see."

Shanks was not amused, and his face said it all.

"You were the one that chose the name." Benny tried to placate him.

"I was stupid!" Shanks shouted and then murmured under his breath, "and probably extremely drunk." more so from even right now.

Everything seemed like a good idea when he was drunk, and even if it wasn't, he usually didn't remember them.

"New name?" he suggested hopefully.

"Like?" Benn played along.

"Ahhhh.. Shanks the ba…" _nannananna,_ Shanks stopped himself in time. That was really close, he had already given the crew a lot of material to work with, no need for more.

"Shanks the ba..?" asked Benn with raised eyebrow.

Shanks swallowed and opened his mouth not sure how to dig himself out of this blunder when an idea stroke him.

"The badass!"

"Badass?" repeated Benn, "The Badass pirates?" he tried thoughtfully.

Shanks happily nodded, he was a genius. No one can say anything bad about calling yourself a badass. 'Those badass pirates are truly true to their name, they are just - _dramatic pause_ \- are so badasssssssss.'

Benn sighed, "Really, Shanks, you want to _welcome_ more ass and butts jokes to our fold."

"What? Nooo." Shanks protested hotly. _Not the ass jokes, no more. Anything but them, his poor butt._

"Why the badass captain hair is so Red? Cause his ass on fire."

"Noooooo.." Shanks had both hands on his ears trying to plug them (his poor virginal ears) but he heard the .. w..wo… words nonetheless.

"Where do you find the Badas _sss_ Pirates?" drawled Benn.

"Drinking from the _bottom_ of the butt."

Shanks had stopped trying to plug his ears and slumped into the chair.

"How the badass get the _shit_ done?" Benn continued mercilessly.

"By their botty."

"Stop. Just stop, please! Not badass. I get it, my mistake." Shanks yielded.

His pouting face could have melted steel but it only got a mere arched eyebrow from Benn.

Shanks finally said unsure "I want a haircut?"

"Oh," was Benn's reply.

"I mean, no hair," Shanks explained carefully.

"Bald?"

Shanks perked up.

"Yes, we can stay Red Hair pirates, but I would go with the new look," Shanks suggested hopefully.

"So you would have a shiny bald head?"

"Yes?" Shanks guessed. It didn't sound so bad.

"Your new nickname would be sparky, Shanks Sparky the captain of the Red Hair pirates."

Shanks choked on his spit (he didn't know have any left).

"Sparkly? Shiny? Hairless? Blady?" Benn calmly made suggestions while Shanks' face fell.

Shanks didn't bother answering, his body slumping more if possible into the uncomfortable chair.

Benn finally took pity on him and said.

"How about we conceal your hair whenever we go drinking in civilian's area?"

"How?"

"Hat?"

"No," Shanks firmly replied. Only one Hat would ever sit on his head.

"Bandanna?"

"Would not hide all of it. The red would still show, and it can fall off." Shanks complained.

Benn thought with a heavy head, having a good solution would mean less (fewer!) headaches for him (even if they were funny headaches as hell).

"Dyed with another color?" Benn knew it was stupid while he was saying it.

Shanks gave him a look. Like he was the dumbest person ever.

The most a dye stuck on Shanks's hair was a week. For some reason, his captain hair was even more stubborn than the man itself, it refused to change.

"Wig?" Benn hazarded.

Shanks had thoughtful look, then he straightened up.

"Wig!" he announced, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"What color?" Shanks demanded, back to his cheery self.

"Any color you want."

Shanks stood up his only arm warping around his first mate's shoulder as he steered him out of the room.

"What is the most **hideous** color you can think of?"

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 **Omake**

 **If Shanks in his drunken state had found the imaginary phonebook.**

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"Pops, yoi?"

Whitebeard looked at his disheveled son with a Den Den Mushi in his hand and an unamused (murderous) look on his face.

" _He_ is calling!"

There was only one he.

"What does the brat wants _now_?"Whitebeard asked more to himself but Marco shrugged and give him the Den Den Mushi un-ceremonially and strode off right after. (Probably to shower by the glare he gave the Den Den Mushi).

Whitebeard eyed the Den Den Mushi suspiciously, cleared his throat and said.

"What do you want brat?"

"Hellooooooooo?"

Whitebeard snorted and obliged.

"Hello."

"Helllllllllllllloooooooo!"

"Yes?" Whitebeard tried again.

"It speaks…. Benny, it speaks. Where are you Benny, BenBen? Benny-roo?"

Yes, the brat was calling him drunk again, Whitebeard wondered if he should just cut the call and throw this Den Den Mushi to the sea. But the brat was still amusing and those calls did get him some very good sake that his poor first mate sent as an apology every time.

"What do you want brat?" he repeated impatiently.

"Oh, it is the old man, how are you? Why did you call?"

"You are the one that did!"

"I did?"

Whitebeard didn't bother answering.

"Oh, yeah, I wanted to ask you something."

Whitebeard hummed, waiting. Hopefully, it would be amusing enough to be worth all the hassle.

"It is about hair!"

"Hair?" Whitebeard repeated slowly. Or maybe not. Should he cut the call or wait a bit, hmmm..

"Yeah, the lack of it."

"Do explain?" Whitebeard was intrigued.

"How to get hair like you."

Was the brat making fun of him? Yet he sounded so serious and sincere.

"I have none," Whitebeard played along, age would do that to you.

"Exactly."

Whitebeard played the conversation again in his head.

"You want no hair?"

"Yeah, I want to be baldy like you." _Baldy_ , Whitebeard snorted inside, the cheeky brat was _ballsy_.

"Like me?"

"Yeah! You know, hairless is so coooooooooollll."

"Is it?" Whitebeard couldn't help but say, truly amused.

"Yes." The Den Den Mushi was nodding very enthusiastically.

"..and I want to grow a ban.. bananananan just like you, you would show me how, right?"

A what? Banananan… how many 'n' did it have and he had it? Whitebeard eyed his body, what the hell was the brat speaking about? Was he speaking about _that_? But the moron had it too? Didn't he?

He should have been born with one, does it grow even more at the brat age?

Whitebeard decided to play it cool and not show his confusion.

"Why should I?"

"Because I am your _kohai_!"

Whitebeard snorted and let out a hefty laugh.

In a way the brat was right, he was his senior, or maybe senpai… Gargargararararara!

"Do I need to call you _pops_ now?" the brat sounded dejected.

Whitebeard considered this, the look on his eldest son if he heard the Red Hair Brat (or _No_ Hair? Hairless? What was his nickname to be?) call him that.

Whitebeard let out another chuckle and tried to get grip on the situation.

"You didn't tell me why you want to get rid of your hair?"

"I didn't … ohhh" Shanks paused.

Whitebeard frowned, it was very unlike the brat to be hesitant, especially on this drunk.

"They told me… " He paused again.

 _They?_

"…. _my hair_ is silky like a delicate white butterfly sitting on the soft sand of beach reflecting the red sunset."

Whitebeard was sure he heard whimper in the end and only because of that he was able to stop himself from bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"I see," he choked out after few long seconds, trying to keep the lid on the laughter bubbling inside of him. Indeed, he should never let anything happen to this Den Den Mushi. It was a source of endless amusement.

"You do? Great, so can we?"

Had he missed anything or was the brat again being his no-sense-whatsoever-self.

"Can you what?"

"Can we visit you?" The _duh_ in his voice was as evident as if he said it out loud.

"Why?"

There was a long pause, which the Den Den Mushi was unmistakably looking at him disapprovingly. Whitebeard let out a quiet chuckle, trying to control his breathing, _not yet._

"So you could teach me how to get rid of my hair," the cheeky brat was pouting.

Before Whitebeard could answer, a voice resounded in the other end of the call.

"Shanks? Shanks?"

Whitebeard knew that voice, _the worried undertone_ , probably worried about what disaster his captain cooked now. Whitebeard felt a genuine pity for him.

"Hey, Benny, I looked for you… come say _hiiii_ to the old man."

"Old man?"

Whitebeam heard a groan, and then some very creative and muffled cursing, clearing of a throat.

"I am so sorry about that sir, I'll send you some prime sake as an apology and…"

"Sure, and your captain can come to visit," Whitebeard cut him and then added a bit evilly, "you too."

He heard the brat shout happily, cheering, and a loud crash.

"Visit?" the voice of the brat's first mate was calm and soft but with steel in it.

"Yes, me and the brat have a lot to discuss, he can tell you all about it."

"Oh?"

"We are in the south of Kaido's territory, I am sure you can find us."

Clank.

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Whitebeard let out a roar of acclimated laughter that shook his ship. He saw his sons coming to check on him, and then leave while shaking their heads in amusement wondering what had put their pops in such good mood, but thankful for it nonetheless.

He finally relaxed in his chair, his eyes gleaming with an uncanny light.

His brain already scheming, while the smile on his face widened even more.

Should he or shouldn't he tell his sons (especially his eldest) about the visit and _ohhh_ should he tell them about the reason... when would be a _good time_ to have the Red Hair brat call him _pops_?

Decisions, decisions...

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So what _look_ /color would look hideous on Shanks and any nicknames for him to go with it?

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Did you like it? This was inspired by a scene from my story **D Sway the Waves of Time** (TimeTravel) chapter 4.

I should be, by all rights, working on my **Shanks's Choice** story but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. You are more than welcome to check it and leave me there some motivation (get the blood pumping and the words spilling).

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My beta thought I should let you know that I can actually know how to spell 'banana'(nanannannanna) XD

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 **Leave a review and get a free haircut (by either Shanks or Benny-roo) or we will shave your banananannana ;D**


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